Confidence
by Green Bird
Summary: Slashy. Pre-Spock/Kirk. - Maybe it doesn't matter how much you twist time. Maybe some things stay constant in this universe. - Jim and Spock have a conversation.


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1.

Confidence

Green Bird

Diplomatic brown-nosing was something that Jim Kirk was learning to accept as part of his life. In the four months after he had been assigned as captain of the Enterprise, he had done nothing much more exciting than escort officials, seduce senators and charm anyone with a speck of power. Of course it was all necessary. Of course it was important for the youngest, most dashing, most daring captain in all of Starfleet to rub elbows with officials and their pocketbooks: there was a hell of a lot of rebuilding to do after the extreme damages the fleet had acquired. More socializing meant more funds. More funds meant more ships. More ships meant the Enterprise could do something other than flex its muscles. But the money came first.

And so, James T. Kirk had become a lobbyist kiss-ass.

This was why he was shit-faced drunk: it made the torture slightly more humorous. It wasn't that he hated meeting people, or that he disliked the attention this little tour has given him. He certainly didn't mind the collection of women it brought his way- it was just that when he had been announced captain, he saw a hell of a lot more interesting things happening to him in the future. Some of them involving photon torpedoes and enemy combatants.

Music swayed through the air, and Kirk swayed with it, but not for the right reasons. This evening's dinner party was petering out; the last of the dignitaries had shuffled off to their respectable spaces, so he had no fear of making a drunken ass of himself. And he was.

McCoy was lying on a table, head half-raised and watching the few remaining people dance. He was humming, tipping his empty glass so that the ice clinked around musically. Jim could tell his doctor was about to check out for the night, and right on the tabletop by the look of it.

Kirk stood next to him, having dislocated himself from several women and retreating to his belligerent doctor for safety. He wasn't in the mood for any more dignitaries' daughters. He wasn't in the mood for any more parties, either, and wobbled unsteadily as he looked down at McCoy.

"You need to sit." Bones had one eye open. It regarded him with drunken concern. "You are going to sprain an ankle."

"I'm fine." People were dancing in his peripheral. It was incredibly distracting. Somewhat nauseating. "I hate this, Bones."

"I know, Jim. Goddamn politics are a pain." The doctor pushed himself off of the table a small amount and blinked forcefully. "You need some air. Go out on the balcony. I'll help."

"You're too drunk to help me." Because he was. McCoy attempted to stand up, fell back into the chair, and nodded in agreement. He resumed his rest on the wood surface. "You just stay there. Have someone pick you up." Jim turned away from the dancing people. "I'm going out."

It took a great deal more grace to reach the balcony than Jim Kirk currently had, so he did the best he could, and only fell into two people while doing it. There was a curtain covering the doorway out onto the long, sweeping porch. It put up a decent fight, but he prevailed.

He _was_ the captain.

He was also going to need help getting back to his cabin. McCoy was lost to him. Scotty was missing in action. Sulu had been consumed by the dancing mass.

There was always Spock. Spock would help him. Even though he was certain his new comrade often wanted to beat him senseless, he was always there when you needed him. He had become very good at hovering over Jim Kirk's right shoulder, muttering dignitaries names and greeting customs so that the captain would not inappropriately proposition a married statesman by blinking too rapidly. Spock was wonderfully helpful.

And when Kirk slipped on the stone flagging and almost pitched over the rail, there he was.

"You are very drunk." A tight, warm grip was on his shoulder, straightening him up. Kirk smiled up at a somber, olive-skinned face. ".21 blood alcohol content, to be exact."

"You are very exact." Kirk used the railing for support. Spock's hand withdrew and his first officer stood with his arms behind his back, watching him. He was close enough to catch if Kirk's legs decided to be finished with this standing business.

"What're you doing out here?" Jim tried to clear his vision, using his second-in-command as a focal point.

"It is pleasant out. I am enjoying experiencing the atmosphere and observing the unique formations presented in this landscape." Why couldn't he just say he was enjoying the view? Damn Vulcans. "I also found it my duty to prevent wayward captains from falling to their deaths."

"Sober smartass." Kirk breathed deeply. The evening's air was warm and sweet. This particular planet had a fantastic aroma to it. Eyes no longer blurry, Kirk stared through the window at the people inside. People who were perfectly happy living from one party to the next. People who didn't care about adventure or change.

"You should be in there, you know," Kirk announced, gesturing vaguely to the doorway. "Uhura is dancing with some new ensign guy. Has two left feet. Also two right ones." Sextruped. He had to be outfitted with two pairs of boots for his uniform.

The reply was crisp: "That is no concern of mine."

Kirk couldn't help but baulk at his first officer at this news. "Well, that was quick!" One minute they were getting all fluffy on the transporter pad, and the next she was leaving the Vulcan for a four-legged engine specialist.

"Our relationship played its logical course. There is no ill will."

"Yeah sure. Say that when Lieutenant Bas-kail asks her to dance." Kirk made a face and felt it in his stomach. "He never keeps his tentacles to himself."

"Once again," Spock reiterated, his monotone never faltering, "that is none of my concern."

"I know, I know. You're a perfect gentleman and an amazing ex." Kirk closed one eye in apparent thought. That relationship had confused him. It never really sat right. Certainly, it wasn't because the stoic Spock had succeeded seducing a woman James Kirk hadn't even charmed. Certainly not. That was impossible. "I gotta say, though, I am not surprised."

Spock turned his head, eyes dark, face taught with annoyance. Kirk would have leaned back had he had control of his center of gravity. "Why," asked the Vulcan, "is it inconceivable that I can form an intimate relationship with…"

"It's not that." Jim brought a hand up to wave away the accusation and almost hit his First Officer in the face. He could smell a fight from a mile away, even when his nose was filled with the smell of the liquor on his breath. "I conceive that. I know you can." Loyal. Dedicated. Passionate in his own way. "I've seen it."

The Vulcan let some irritation eek into his voice. "What?"

"I've got inside information." He grinned, cherishing his secret knowledge on the subject. It had not taken long for Kirk to figure out that the current Spock knew about the interloping Spock Prime. That, and the old Vulcan had checked in on them a month ago, giving Spock news of the developing colony and wagging an almost playful eyebrow at Kirk. "You and Uhura… that's just not how it's gunna work out!"

Spock sighed, dismissing his annoyance and Kirk's commentary. His captain was drunk. The chances of him making any discernable sense had decreased with each ounce of liquor ingested. "How, then, do you presume that it will work out for me?"

A sly grin had settled on Jim's face, creeping up his cheeks and into his eyes. "I don't presume. I know. I've seen it." He had. The future, even though it was an alternate future, had some pretty interesting things in it regarding his first officer. "I know."

"Captain, how would you be able to see predict my personal relationships?"

He could tell that Spock was humoring him, his tone of voice said as much. "That's easy. You showed me." That got a slight perk in those pointy ears. Kirk tapped a finger to his head. "I had a mind-thingy with the old you. He and I shared emotions and information and things." 'Things' being the least scandalous of the three.

Spock blinked at him. "You experienced a mind meld with Spock Prime?" He had obviously not expected that.

"Yeah." Kirk bobbed his head, felt faint, and stopped. "Your brain is _intense_." It was too dark to see if a faint green tinge had colored his friend's cheeks, but he wanted it to be there. "I know what your future holds. You let me see an awful lot." Missions and chess games. Horrific battles and private embraces. Ecstasy and pain. There was a lot of living ahead of them. It was oddly comforting.

"That future you speak of is null and void." Spock straightened his back in reassurance. "That was an alternate reality. It is not logical to presume that what you witnessed will undoubtedly occur."

Jim wouldn't buy that. Some things don't change. "You are still you and I am still me." He risked letting go of the railing to move closer, to see all the little expressions that the Vulcan communicated with. His drunkenness removed personal boundaries- but he was certain to respect a small amount of space. Spock was not touchy feely. Not yet. "You and me, well, we've got a future."

It was inevitability, wasn't it? Spock Prime had looked at Jim so fondly, touched him so easily. He shared his pain and his predicament without a second's pause. He revealed images of an intimate past, of moments in time that were surely only meant to be between them. That old man in the cave was so familiar: a part of him he'd soon discover. A part of him he would never want to lose.

And Spock, would Spock eventually become that? Through hardships and trials and near-death experiences, would they come together the way that Spock Prime and his version of James Kirk had? Would those futures he had been privy to see come to fruition?

He had no doubt.

James T. Kirk did not believe in destiny, he believed in himself, in his crew, and in turn, in Mr. Spock. He trusted them.

"What you showed me was- real." Because maybe it didn't matter how much you twisted time, maybe some things stay constant in this universe. "Can be real," he corrected, "will be."

"You seem confident of the future."

"I am." He couldn't help but smile, couldn't help but feel all right with the entire thing. What Spock Prime had showed him was certainly not what he had expected- but it seemed to fit, in a way. It seemed oddly perfect.

"You are going to be awesome in bed," he added, before thinking. Drinking made his mouth lose. He couldn't tell if Spock coughed or choked, but the Vulcan covered the sound well. "And, you know, in general."

Kirk nodded, seemingly pleased with his predictions. "We are going to be very good friends, Mr. Spock." Even if they weren't right now, even if it took them a while to overcome each other's quirks and follies. They would get there.

"Hm." Spock turned to look through the windows at the now-disbanding crowd. People were leaving in small packs, some holding others up. McCoy's voice could be heard from inside the door, chiding one of his nurses for nearly dropping him. This night's festivities were done. Over the chatter, Kirk almost missed Spock's comment.

"Your confidence does suit you."

Jim barked a laugh, placing his hands on his hips and puffing out his chest. "That's why I'm the darling of the Starfleet."

Spock did not comment much further than one crooked brow and Kirk tipped his head in the Vulcan's direction. "Mr. Spock, you are pleasant company. Tomorrow, we kiss more ass and rub more elbows, but I am drunk and must retire!"

The First Officer watched, obviously amused, at his captain's stumbled attempt at walking. Two long strides had him at the man's side. He offered a stiff arm, which Jim Kirk latched onto with enthusiasm. The touch did not feel awkward.

"Let me escort you, captain."

"Call me Jim."

Spock led his inebriated co-worker back through the banquet hall, steering him carefully around precious objects that no soldier's salary would be able to reimburse. The Vulcan was a good guide, and the captain only tripped once on a fold of carpet before they reached his guest room.

Kirk fumbled with the lock, fingers slipping on the keypad as he entered his code. The cool hiss of the door opening detached the two as Jim stumbled in, turning to lazily salute his aide.

"You are a most excellent First Officer." He smiled, head lopsided. The Vulcan looked down at him, stiff-backed, but less guarded. These barriers would break. They had to. "I will see you in the morning. Good night, Mr. Spock."

The door was almost shut when he head his response.

"Good night, Jim."

The captain nodded happily, head swirling as he wobbled to the bed, falling on it in full uniform.

Good night, Jim.

It was a step in the right direction.

-----

A.N.: Well, that was fun!

There will be two more coming after this one- "Contact" and "Collision" 83


End file.
